


The Underlying Constant

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 01:00:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There comes a time in every man's life when he gets to a fork in the road...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Underlying Constant

**Author's Note:**

> This story was previously published in "Come To Your Senses 15", though this version may not be exactly the same.

## The Underlying Constant

by JC

Author's webpage: [http://www.skeeter63.org/jayci ](http://www.skeeter63.org/jayci)

Author's disclaimer: The characters from the TV series "The Sentinel" are not my property, and I am not making money off of them. That's all I have to say.

* * *

The Underlying Constant by J.C. 

Blair Sandburg was no stranger to the process of analytical thought. It was how he lived his life. He thought everything over. Even the acts that seemed his most impulsive got at least a quick run through. He may not always have gotten it right -- chosen the right path or come to the right conclusions -- but he did always think things over. Being on his own at a young age had taught him how much better it was to think things through before leaping into action. 

Of course, when he mulled that over, he realized that that was precisely how he had gotten into his current predicament. If he traced it back \-- it all came down to one impulsive act. It had been the right thing to do, he was absolutely positive of that, but he hadn't taken time to think about it. One minute, he was chasing after what could be the academic opportunity of a lifetime; the next minute, he was face down under a garbage truck, having saved the life of said opportunity: 

Cascade cop and out-of-control Sentinel -- Detective Jim Ellison. 

If he had stopped to consider the situation, he was sure he would have still been moved to make that fateful tackle, but it would have meant a moment of hesitation... and that very well could have been too late. No, it had been the right thing to do, but it had also led him down the path to four years later, lying in bed in what used to be Jim's spare room. And for the past few weeks, he had been doing the same thing -- lying in that room at night... thinking. Wheels turning over and over as he examined things from all sides. Night after night he had come to the same conclusion... it was time for him to move out. 

The puzzling aspect of the situation was that he didn't really want to move, but he felt like he _should_ move. Soon, he would turn thirty. Soon, he would come to the end of the road as far as his dissertation was concerned, and he would get a job, maybe at Rainier, maybe not. And if he did stay in Cascade, he couldn't picture himself coming home every night to stay in his _room_. He could picture any number of scenarios for his future, but none of them included the little room in Jim's loft apartment that he had filled with everything left after the infamous warehouse explosion, plus all the stuff that he had accumulated in the subsequent years. It was the longest he had ever stayed in one specific place, but he couldn't see being there forever. It wasn't that he couldn't see himself living with Jim... he easily could... easily _did_. But not in that leftover space allotted to him. 

Grown men don't live like that, do they? Certainly, not if they have a choice in the matter. 

So, it always came back to moving out, getting a place that was his own, and making his own space. As usual, he considered every angle, so the thought of he and Jim finding something together did cross his mind... but he dismissed it. Even if Jim would consider leaving the loft, it wouldn't be to room with Blair Sandburg again. 

It would probably be to find a house with Lisa. 

For Blair, all roads ended at the same point. It was time for him to move out. 

* * *

Blair liked Lisa. Had liked her from the start. And Lisa liked him. It was interesting to him how everything had turned out. Lisa Hubbard had been his nurse. He had lost count of how many times he had been in and out of the hospital since his life had included running around Cascade after a cop with hypersensitive senses. Too many. Of course _some_ stood out in his mind. Vividly. But the last time hadn't been because of police work. At least not directly, not as a result of being shot, or beaten, or drowned. It had been because of pneumonia that had developed complications. By the time he had accepted the fact that maybe he didn't just have a cold or the flu, as he dragged himself from the university to the police station to the loft and back in a weary, draining cycle, he had been flat on his back in a hospital bed. He had been so sick that even Jim -- who rarely seemed to let an opportunity pass when he could say 'I told you so' -- just sat quietly by his side with a worried look on his face. 

Lisa had been the night duty nurse who hadn't questioned why Jim felt it necessary to remain by Blair's side night after night. She didn't know about Blair's near death experience earlier that year, didn't understand the depth of their attachment. To her, he was just a stern, hard man with an incredible capacity to care, and she liked him for it. When Blair finally felt more like his old self, and was _acting_ more like his old self, she liked him as well. 

She would duck into the room during her breaks just to chat with the two men... listen to their stories, laugh at their jokes. It reminded her of being with her friends back east. Since moving to Cascade and taking the job at the hospital, she hadn't had time to socialize much, or make new friends outside of the workplace. Being on night shift didn't help. So, when Blair was being discharged, and asked if he and Jim could take her out to dinner one night, to thank her for overlooking Jim's after hours visits, she quickly agreed. 

It seemed to take little effort for the three of them to become friends. Jim and Blair got to see Lisa at her most relaxed. At the hospital, she had been friendly, but still, an efficient, no-nonsense nurse. Outside of that environment, she sparkled, she teased, she rolled with the punches. After that first dinner, where both men had been pleasantly surprised to see the transformation from loose uniform to little black dress, from pinned up braid to thick, light brown waves, from the ever-present eyeglasses to bright hazel eyes, she had just eased into their lives. They found themselves spending the odd free moments together. Sometimes out at dinner, or a movie, once at a museum opening, and every so often Lisa would come over to scream at the TV with them during a Jags game. Just sort of fitting in with hardly a ripple. 

Until the day that Jim made waves. 

Waves that Blair hadn't noticed until they had come crashing back at him. 

It had started out with Blair sitting on the couch, hunched over his computer, surrounded by notebooks and papers, trying to make headway on the latest draft of his dissertation. When Jim had breezed through the door, talking about the Jags tickets that he had gotten from Simon, Blair had barely looked up. 

"Can't make it, man. Getting down to the wire here. I have a deadline, and I'm probably already looking at an all-niter. Call H., he'd do your paperwork for a week for the chance to go." 

Jim had walked over to the phone, and just stood there without picking it up. Then after a few seconds, he said, "Maybe I'll give Lisa a call. She's got tonight off, I think. Maybe she'll want to go." 

"Cool. Tell her I said hi." And with that Blair turned his attention back to his work. He mumbled goodbye as Jim left, but the whole incident didn't faze him one bit. 

Not even later, as he stretched his tired, tense neck and shoulders, deciding that he'd had enough for one night, and saw that it was 3:08 in the morning. And Jim wasn't back. Instantly, he was concerned. Not afraid really -- if something truly bad had happened, he was sure he would have heard. But he'd been to plenty games, and even when they stopped for a bite to eat and some beers, they made it home way before three in the morning. 

On second thought, there had been those two times where things had gotten a little extreme. 

Picking up the phone, he punched the speed dial number for Jim's cell phone, and heard it ring in the hall. He hung up, cutting off the ringing, already headed for the door. When he opened it, Jim was staring at his phone with a puzzled look. 

"That was just me, Jim." 

"What's wrong?" 

"Nothing, just noticed how late it had gotten." He paused. "Wanted to... well, we've had a couple of bad experiences associated with Jags games." 

"Shit, Chief. Sorry. Just lost track of time. Got something to eat, and just got to talking... you know how it is." 

"Yeah, sure." He watched Jim lock up. "So everything's cool? Lisa have a good time?" 

"Yeah, it was fun." 

"Good. Well, goodnight. I gotta be up in a couple of hours. Yell at me if I'm not up before you go." 

"Sure, Chief. No problem. Night." 

And that had been that. Blair didn't think anymore about it. Until the day that he noticed that Jim and Lisa were going out _again_ , and he wasn't going with them -- _again_. It finally occurred to him that he had missed the point when Lisa had stopped being _their_ friend, and had become Jim's _girl_ friend. He had missed it, and Jim hadn't pointed it out. 

That's when the thinking had started. 

And weeks later, after his process of analysis, he had reached a conclusion. Jim was nearing forty, and even though he had already gone the marriage route, that didn't mean that he wouldn't ever want to try it again. Forty is one of those points where a man takes stock of his life, seeing if he measures up to expectations -- expectations from society, his peers, his family, and himself. Blair knew about those things. Thirty was one of those ages, too. He was that much closer to his Ph.D. He was that much closer to entering the real working world. Fulfillment of expectations on all fronts. Even though he had never been averse to bucking the so-called system, and he had no real desire to move away from Jim, a man having his own place at thirty seemed like an expectation that should be taken into consideration. And after considering it, he agreed. 

That just left filling Jim in on the new development. He had a feeling that it would be an awkward conversation. Almost as awkward as the one they would have had if Jim _had_ told him that he was dating Lisa. But unlike that, he couldn't just do it without saying something. They'd had one confrontation over Blair's packed belongings. Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away.... Couldn't have a repeat performance of that, which simply meant that they would have to have a man-to-man talk. 

* * *

Although he hadn't expected it to be the easiest conversation in the world, Blair had thought it would be simple enough. He would tell Jim that he was moving, Jim would most likely object, and he would beat down Jim's objections with his stash of prepared words. 

Simple, right? 

Unless you happen to reside in the Ellison-Sandburg Zone. 

Blair had forgotten the potential for things around them to spin out of control. He hadn't exactly led a normal, simple life since the two of them had met. Jim referred to it as the Sandburg Zone, but Blair refused to take all the blame, after all _he_ wasn't the Sentinel with screwed-up senses who had started the whole thing. So, in his head he called it the _Ellison_ -Sandburg Zone... and Rod Serling wouldn't have stood a chance there. 

All that was called for was one conversation to plant the seed. Blair was in no hurry to make any real plans until he had his degree and knew what his job options would be. So, 1-2-3, bim-bam-boom. Mention the moving, listen to the objections, override the objections. 

Piece of cake. 

Except for the fact that Jim Ellison seemed to be wielding the knife that made the slice. 

A lot of moments had come when Blair _could_ have said something, but he always let them pass. And then, Jim took advantage of one such moment. 

They had just gotten home... Blair having made the trip while going over things in his head, but still _not_ talking to his partner. Even Jim had been quieter than normal the whole way. As soon as they were inside the apartment, the older man went for a beer, before walking over to look out the big glass windows. It was dark out, and while Blair was sure that Jim had a good Sentinel's eye view of things, he didn't think that Jim was really seeing a thing. 

Then again, _neither_ one seemed to notice the big, blinking sign that read, 'Welcome to the Zone.' 

* * *

"Hey, Jim? What's up? You okay?" 

Without turning around, Jim answered, "Yeah, just been thinking." 

"Thinking?" 

"What? Trying to say I don't think, Sandburg?" 

"No, trying to see if you're going to enlighten me, or make me guess." 

"You'd never guess -- not in a million years." 

"So, enlighten me." 

"I'm thinking about getting married, well not _getting_ married... but marriage. You know..." 

And Jim proceeded to say pretty much everything that Blair had thought up -- a man turning forty, taking stock of his life, yadda yadda yadda. But somehow, it didn't sound nearly as satisfactory being said in Jim's actual voice. 

"You're going to marry Lisa?" He had tried to be calm, but Blair could hear the faint trace of hysteria in his voice. 

"Not exactly. We're nowhere near that point. But I've just been thinking..." 

Trying to scramble up to some point where he didn't feel like he was in over his head, Blair replied, "Well, I guess this won't be coming totally from out of left field, then. I've been thinking too." 

"What? I _know_ you're not thinking about getting married." 

Blair didn't waste time being offended by that remark. Truth be told... it _was_ the truth. "No, I've been thinking about moving out." 

Blair did take a moment to get some satisfaction out of how quickly Jim whipped around. 

"Moving out?" 

"Yep. And just in time it seems. I'm sure no wife would want their husband's friend living in the spare room. If you even stayed here. Weird how in sync we are, huh?" 

"Moving out?" 

Nodding, Blair repeated, "Moving out," making it sound conclusive. It was definitely better being the surpris _er_ , rather than the surpris _ee_. "You know I'll be getting my first real job soon, man..." And Blair went on with his spiel about turning thirty... yadda yadda yadda. 

"Yeah, I see your point. So... well... guess I'll call it a night." 

"Night, Jim." 

Off they went to their respective beds. End of story, right? 

Hold on Rod. You ain't seen nothing yet. 

* * *

Blair was dreaming. He knew it was a dream because he was lying on a beach soaking up some rays. And loving it. Dream Blair could do that. Real Life Blair knew the dangers of skin cancer. But Dream Blair was lying out on the beach, _tanning_ , while he enjoyed the scenery from behind the shield of his shades. The voluptuous, curvy, leggy scenery. Until his view was blocked. By the tanned, muscular body of his best friend. Jim was standing in front of him, wearing what looked like black silk boxers, but they had to be trunks, because they were on the beach, after all. Both Dream Blair and Real Life Blair were in total agreement about the fact that even _Dream_ Jim wouldn't be standing around on a public beach in his underwear. But evidently, even Dream Jim could be annoying, because he was standing there, big as life, blocking the view, (although he made a damned nice sight himself) and calling to Blair over and over... while kicking him on the foot. 

"Chief... Chief... _Chief_..." 

"Wha... wha... what?" 

Blair tried to drag himself to full alertness, jerking his foot away from that insistent poking. 

"I fixed breakfast, Chief. Come eat." 

As his eyes focused, Blair saw Jim standing by his bed, wearing an apron, getting set to nudge his foot again. "Yeah, yeah. Gimme a minute." 

"Okay, but be quick. Go splash some cold water on your face or something. Help you wake up. Don't want your food to get cold." 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Be right out." 

After a luxurious stretch, Blair glanced at his clock, then rolled out of bed. As he reached the door, he stopped, blinking several times. He took a minute to think, then took another minute to think some more, before heading out to Jim. 

"Hey, Ellison, do you know what time it is?" 

Jim looked up from the mixing bowl, spatula in hand. "Yep, 7:15." 

"And do you know what day it is?" 

"Wednesday." 

"Seven-fifteen on a Wednesday morning. And you're cooking breakfast. Not muffins and coffee. _Breakfast_." He moved to stand next to Jim. "Fruit platter, waffles, and turkey bacon. _Breakfast_ , Jim. On a _Wednesday_." 

"It's not like I never fix breakfast, Chief. I woke up early. No biggie. Here... drink this. Maybe then you'll stop complaining when somebody's trying to feed you." He handed Blair a steaming mug of fresh brewed coffee. 

Blair took the cup with him to the bathroom, all the while muttering about breakfast and weekdays and weird parallel universes. But he came out smiling, and evidently hungrier than just a few minutes before. 

"Okay, Jim. I'm not gonna look a gift chef in the mouth. Let's eat." 

Jim dished up the food, and they ate in companionable near-silence. All quiet except for the lip smacking, juice slurping, and murmurs of hunger-satisfied appreciation. 

Getting up from the table, Blair said, "This was great, Jim. But I don't have to be up for a few more hours yet, and there's a beach waiting for me..." 

"Hey, Chief?" 

"Huh?" 

"Don't feel like you have to move out right away. I mean... I'm not marrying Lisa or anybody, really, anytime soon, so..." 

Blair turned back towards his partner. "It wasn't really about that, man. Just, you know..." 

"Yeah, I know. I'm just saying... don't feel like you have to go." 

Blair smiled, then grinned. "Oh, man. You're too much." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Do the words 'courtship ritual' sound familiar to you? Be careful what you throw, big guy. Sometimes it comes back to bite you on the butt." Blair laughed, and stepped inside his room. Before closing the door, he quietly added, "I'll be here for a while yet. I'm glad that you want me to stay." 

Then it was Jim's turn to grumble. "Courtship... wasn't... I just... oh, hell." He gave the kitchen a quick clean up and went off to work. 

And that was the beginning of the end, or the end of the beginning... Just as easily as things had shifted in the first place, they just simply shifted back. Well, maybe not _as_ easily, and certainly not _exactly_ back. 

There had been that bump in the road, before they drifted off in a new direction. 

The bump being 5'7" and female. 

All that Wednesday, Jim fought the temptation to call and see what Blair was doing. Finally, he resolutely picked up the phone and called Lisa. But his plan to make plans died when she informed him that because of a flu epidemic, they were short-handed at the hospital. Her scheduling was uncertain, but she was sure that she would be pulling a few double shifts off and on for a while. The new plan became that she would call and keep him posted, and maybe they could get together over the weekend. Jim pressed the button to disconnect the call, and as he dialed a different number, he studiously ignored the words 'courtship ritual' as they echoed in his head, and the sound of Blair's laughter that rang in his ears. 

Sunday, Jim had a date. Dinner with Lisa. And as much as he liked her, and actually did want to see her again, the whole time that he was getting ready, his senses kept reaching out to keep tabs on Blair, who was in his room, behind closed doors, talking to himself, hard at work on his thesis. Jim kept himself from knocking on the door, but he called out 'Be back later' on his way out. 

Dinner went well. The food was good, the conversation interesting, and the company welcome. But when Jim pulled his truck up in front of Lisa's house, he knew it was the end of the evening for him. Lisa's hand reached out and rubbed his leg through the fabric of his dress pants, and he took it into his own. 

"Wanna come in for a while?" 

"No, I better not. You doing another double tomorrow, right?" 

Lisa nodded, replying, "But we have some time." She tugged on his hand a little, and he leaned forward. 

But instead of the kiss that she was expecting, Jim planted a peck on her cheek. He had sweet memories of other times... her slick heat, her soft willingness, but now... 

Lisa pulled back, searching Jim's face, trying to read his expression in the darkened cab of the truck. 

"You okay, Jim?" She narrowed her gaze and tried to focus in on his eyes, but he looked away. "Hey, are you seeing someone else?" 

His eyes leapt back in her direction. "No! No... I haven't been seeing anyone else, just hanging out with..." He tried to slow down, and keep from finishing that sentence, but all he succeeded in doing was ending in a whisper, "...Blair." 

"Oh. Well..." She was quiet for exactly forty-five seconds. Jim counted. "Ohhh. Well, hell. Blair?" 

Jim flinched. "What? You know Blair." 

"Yeah, I do. And I know _you_ and Blair. And, wow, now it makes more sense. I saw it all from the beginning. Just didn't fit it into the proper picture." 

"Lisa, look, I don't know what you're thinking..." 

"No, Jim, it's okay. I've had a great time with you. Really." 

"It's just that I'm... we're... I'm really sorry." 

"Don't apologize, Jim. I'm not mad at you. I know you didn't set out to deliberately hurt me or anything. I will admit, though, that I'm sad that it's over. You know, a woman turns thirty... questions what she wants out of her life.... It's not like I was trying to get married... Not really. But the idea of it.... You're a great guy, Jim. I want you to be happy. I want _both_ of you to be happy. Good luck." She opened the door, and quickly got out of the truck. A minute later, she was leaning in the driver side window, and giving Jim her own chaste peck on the cheek. "Good night. Don't screw it up, hear me?" 

It took Jim a little while to collect himself and sort out his jumbled emotions. He did care about Lisa a lot, and no matter what she said, he was sure that he had hurt her. And as far as Blair was concerned, he had no idea how to go about that. No plan at all. He wasn't sure if he should even be considering coming up with one. 

But that didn't stop him from thinking about it. That night and on into the next morning. Struggling with the fact that no matter what he did Blair was going to turn thirty, get a real job, and want to move out. The first two he couldn't change, but the third... maybe he had some maneuvering room there. After all, Blair could always move _up_ instead of out. That idea made him crazy, so he tried to stop thinking about it. That was the _end_ of the road. First he had to get there. What he came up with wasn't really a plan, but it was action. And to him, that was something at least. 

It was easy to just hang out with Blair again. Sitting around the loft. Playing poker with the guys. Doing stuff. Doing nothing. Easy. If Jim noticed that Blair had seemed to stop dating somewhere during the time that _he_ was dating, he didn't mention it. And if Blair noticed that now neither one of them seemed to be spending any time with Lisa, he didn't mention it, either. Things shifted back, and kept on shifting. 

* * *

As smoothly as possible, Jim had instigated situations that involved the two of them spending time together. They went out to eat, the movies, the usual things. He stayed home when Blair had work to do, or dropped by to feed him when he worked late at the university. He called him for no obvious reason -- just to check on him, just to talk. And Blair seemed to slip into it just as easily. He invited Jim to this exhibit, or that function, and started calling to check in with him, too. The fact that their social lives had narrowed down to just the two of them didn't seem to matter, or at least it didn't come up in conversation. 

Jim was incredibly pleased with the results of his non-plan, and was trying not to think past what he had accomplished -- his partner hadn't mentioned moving anymore. Jim had successfully controlled any impulses for goodnight kisses, saving that and the rest for his dreams. Things were going so well, he didn't want to rock the boat, especially when he wasn't sure what the water would be like. 

Still, rumor has it that the water is fine in the Ellison-Sandburg Zone. Of course, the ride can indeed be a little rocky. 

* * *

Blair woke up with a groan, pulled from a vaguely pleasant dream by an insistent call of nature. But not from his bladder... his dick was aching for attention and his hand automatically reached down and squeezed it a few times. 

'Man, I gotta get laid', he thought. 'When was the last time me and...' He hesitated, trying to pull up a name or at least a face. Then he tried harder to even _remember_ the last time... 

But all of his recent memories were filled with one name and one face, and his dick gave a little twitch at that, which made him laugh (although it sounded like another groan), as he thought, 'Good grief, I _do_ have to get out. It looks like I've been dating Jim Ellison.' Somehow, it didn't sound much like the joke he intended, not even in his own head, and he sat straight up in bed. 'Damn, I've been dating _Jim Ellison_?' 

He took deep breaths, calming himself. 'No, we've just been spending more time together than usual because of the dissertation.' He had decided to get Jim's input through some of the editing process, going over all of the personal references that had to be taken out. He was already uncomfortable with the fact that he was so close to his research subject. His relationship with Jim hadn't turned out at all like he had pictured when he first started the whole thing. 

'No kidding. Now you're _dating_ the guy.' 

He ran the fingers of one hand through his sleep-tangled curls. 'We're _not_ dating,' he argued with himself, 'We've just been working on my paper, and he broke up with Lisa, and... A cold shower... that's all I need. A cold shower and a hot date.' 

He got up, opened the door to his room and saw Jim standing in the kitchen. The sight made his heart lurch and his cock stirred in answer. 'Oh fuck. I'm in big trouble.' Then Jim looked up, smiling, eyes taking him in, not missing the morning erection, and Blair didn't need a Ph.D. _or_ heightened senses to recognize the expression on Jim's face or feel the heat that blazed across the room. 'Oh _fuck_! _We're_ in big trouble. Big, _big_ , trouble.' 

He didn't speak, just did an abrupt turn towards the bathroom, mind racing as he wondered how he could have missed something that big. How Jim could have hidden that from him... how he could have hidden it from himself. How on earth had some dinners, and some conversations, and some laughs managed to transform into that lusty, loving thing that had just blindsided him? He cut those thoughts off and focused on the idea of a cold shower, the colder the better. 

In his muddled state, he wasn't paying attention to the fact that he left the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel... until the difference in the air hit him. Ignoring Jim's eyes on him, and ignoring the questioning tone as Jim called out to him, he prayed silently that he could make it inside his room without sprouting a hard-on, and let out a sigh of relief once his bedroom door closed behind him. Okay, he could deal with things. His hormones had gotten him into tight situations before, and he had always managed to get out. Just took some thinking, and he was good at that. In any case, maybe too good. Because now that realization had dawned just a little bit, the sky was threatening the monster of all sunrises, and everything was spilling out to be seen in the bright light of day. 

Blair grabbed some clothes, at first not caring what he put on, but then he forced himself to slow down. He had to teach a class... needed to look at least halfway decent. Carefully selecting something appropriate, he dressed, tied his hair back, and finally opened the door. 

"Blair...?" 

'Deep breaths, Sandburg.' "Hey, Jim. Gotta run. Don't want to be late for my class." He frantically snatched up notebooks and papers from the coffee table and the floor around the sofa, trying not to shove them inside his bag. At the door, he heard Jim speak to him again. 

"I thought maybe tonight, we could -- " 

Blair slammed the brakes on _that_ one in a hurry. "Sorry, can't tonight... got a _date_." He grabbed his keys, shut the door, and practically ran down the hallway. Never looking back. 

What he missed wasn't a pretty sight. Jim Ellison looking crushed -- pain echoed in his eyes and etched on his face. Not pretty at all. 

* * *

Blair stomped into his office after spending the morning turning out his worst job of teaching ever. The phone was already in his hand before he realized that he seemed to have forgotten all the numbers he used to know by heart. Cursing, he rummaged through his bag, and found his address book, quickly scanning the names of various women. In the end, he called the number of the only woman who might actually be able to help him with his situation. 

"H'lo?" 

"Hey, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" Blair berated himself. He had forgotten that Lisa worked the night shift. 

"Blair! Damn, long time no see. Which, I guess, in a way is good. Means that you haven't been in need of any medical attention. How are you guys?" 

"Fine. How have you been?" 

"Not bad. So, what's so important that you had to wake me... four hours early?" 

She was teasing, but Blair still felt bad. Not just for waking her, but for what he was suddenly seeing as the big picture. "I just needed to ask you a question." 

"Shoot." 

"Why did you and Jim stop seeing each other?" 

A pregnant pause. That mother of all give-aways. 

"Didn't he tell you?" 

"No. He never mentioned it. But then, he really didn't talk about when you _started_ seeing each other. And, lately, I've been busy with getting my dissertation ready. I sort of didn't notice how much things had changed. So, what happened? It seemed like the two of you were doing well together. He didn't... It wasn't anything bad, was it?" 

Blair was trying to keep his voice even, but he was feeling overwhelmed. Thinking about that morning at the loft had led him to another terrible thought. He didn't want to be the reason that Lisa may have gotten hurt. He needed to know what had happened. 

"Blair, I think you should be asking _him_ these questions. I thought you guys would have hashed this out long ago. It just wasn't meant to be, Blair. I love you both, and it just wasn't meant to be... me. I gotta go. But, don't be a stranger. And take it easy on him." 

Blair listened to the dial tone. It was only after the annoying beeping sounded in his ear that he realized he hadn't hung up the phone. Before he could change his mind, he made another call. 

* * *

Jim was feeling the agony of defeat. He sat in the restaurant waiting for Blair to show up, and he was determined to be calm. Which meant that he was resigned to whatever happened next. Blair was ten minutes late, and although that wasn't unusual, Jim had to stop himself from thinking that he had been set up. That while he sat tensely watching the door, fiddling with a breadstick, Sandburg was calmly clearing the loft of any traces that a cop and anthropologist had once shared the space. He knew that he was holding his breath, but he just couldn't get his lungs to cooperate. It was with light-headed relief that he expelled the trapped air, autonomic reflexes kicking in, as soon as Blair crossed the threshold. 

Sandburg looked good, but he didn't look happy. 

Blair sat and stared. Jim stared back, stumbling over his words. "I didn't know wh... if... I didn't order you anything." 

"Water's fine for now." Blair picked up his glass, drinking greedily. Easing the liquid past the lump in his throat, the rock in his chest. 

Jim was glad to see his partner, but wasn't sure if he should say so. He had tried to downplay the impact of what had happened that morning... especially the part about Blair having a date. He knew that something had passed between them... some blooming recognition of what had been building, but it seemed that Blair wasn't taking it very well. His other thought -- second behind the setup for Blair's great escape from the loft -- was that Blair was inviting him along on his date. Calling him to be witness, up close and personal, to his success with the female persuasion. 

Jim stiffened his spine, hardened his shell, and put on his dish-it-out-I-can-take-it mask. 'Fortitude, thy name is Ellison.' He tried hard to hold on to that, but still wasn't prepared for what came next. 

"I talked to Lisa today." 

Blair almost laughed at how the color drained from Jim's face. Funny how they both had told him so much without really telling him anything. 

"Breathe, Ellison, before you pass out." 

Jim took a breath, then another. Blessed autonomic reflexes saving the day again. 

"So, what did you think you were doing? How long did you think you were going to go on like this? And how come you never talked to me about it?" 

Too many questions. Hard questions. And Jim didn't think he could even get one right out of the three. 

"Jim? That was your cue, man. This is it. Laying it on the line time. Talk to me." 

Reprieve stepped forward in the form of a waiter. They both ordered stiff drinks, and Blair said they needed more time to study the menus \-- menus that still sat unopened in front of them. 

Looking directly into Jim's eyes, Blair said, "Well?" 

Jim looked away. "I wasn't doing anything." Safe enough, and almost true. 

Blair huffed. "Fine. Let's try this another way." His hand was fiddling with the edge of his menu, but he kept his eyes on Jim's face. "I woke up this morning and realized that I hadn't had sex in a _long_ time. In fact, I hadn't even _seen_ anyone but you in a long time. And it hit me -- in some weird way, I had let myself start _dating_ you. Which freaked me out, because it seemed so ridiculous. Hanging out with your best friend does not equal dating. I mean, it wasn't your fault I wasn't getting any, right?" 

Blair paused, not expecting an answer, and not getting one. But at least he seemed to have Jim's undivided attention. "Then, I walked out of my room, and this morning light thing was going on with you while you were standing in the kitchen. You know, like in movies where one person looks across the room at another person and they seem to glow, and some orchestral music comes up? It was almost just like that, man. And my heart flipped over, and my dick jumped up, and I realized that I hadn't been paying attention when something really important had happened. I had fallen in love with you. And then you looked up at me, like you wanted me to lie out on the table so that you could have me for breakfast, and I panicked. And... damn, Jim... I think you're actually blushing." 

"Sandburg..." 

Blair smiled, eyes glinting, "I love it when you say my name like that. Say it again. Go on... say 'Sandburg'." 

A fast, furious flush of embarrassment brought color to Jim's face, and Blair stifled his laughter as the waiter appeared with their drinks. Jim wasted no time reaching for his, and Blair was left to send the waiter away one more time with the excuse that they needed a few extra minutes. 

Once Jim had set his glass back down, (although he kept a tight grip on it), Blair asked quietly, "So, do you think you can talk to me now?" He watched as Jim slowly opened his menu, eyes moving too fast to actually be reading it. 

"I'm not sure what to say, San... Chief." It was a visible struggle as Jim willed himself not to blush. "I started going out with Lisa, and I wasn't sure what to say about that. I mean, in a way I felt bad about it. I know she was your friend, too, but I hadn't had that much fun with a woman in a long time. It just sort of moved along, and I let it. Then you and I had that stupid conversation about getting older and getting married and moving out. And I guess _I_ panicked. Or maybe it was just a wake up call." 

Another visible struggle and Jim seemed to pull himself together before Blair's very eyes, maintaining eye contact for the first time that night. "I went out with Lisa that last time, and as much as I liked her, could maybe imagine her in my future... I knew who I _always_ imagined. I don't know what I was thinking. Of course, I couldn't just keep you tucked away in that stupid, little room for the rest of your life. But where did that leave me? Everything always came back to you..." 

"That underlying constant." 

"What?" 

"You... me... When you think about all of the changes we've gone through, there's been one constant. When I thought about where life would take me, I was open to all sorts of possibilities, but in my mind you were always there. But the only way to make that work sort of fell outside of our normal realm. So, in typical fashion, I prepared to move on, and you clammed up and stuck it out. How long were you going to do that \-- just let things go? Until I was packing?" 

"I don't know, Sandburg. I guess I was just waiting for you to get clued in and do what you always do -- jump in with both feet and run with the ball. Until then, I would just keep doing those..." Jim pushed away the words 'courtship ritual' not wanting to be on the receiving end of Blair's laughter, only to be mortified at what he actually came up with. "Those wooing-type things." 

The laughter was hearty and heart-felt. After a stunned second of silence, Blair couldn't stop it, though he did try to control the volume. "That's it! Oh, shit. _That's_ what it was. You fucking _wooed_ my ass. Just slipped on in there and actually _wooed_ me. Well, I have to hand it to you -- it worked." He pulled the still-clutched menu from Jim's grasp, watching as his partner's fingers settled on the table, and he rested his own a hair's breadth away. Lowering his voice, he continued, "But what about the rest?" 

The question had the same effect on Jim as the touch of Blair's thumb brushing lightly across the back of his hand -- it sent hope and desire rushing to his nerve endings like sweet fire. But not hot enough to burn away all of his doubt. 

"I didn't know if you'd be interested in the rest." 

"That's the flaw in this whole thing. You know that, don't you? What if I hadn't gotten all the clues? What if we had just kept gliding along in that way that we have? You know that way where a one-week stay turns into four years? What if the future meant we decided to just get a bigger apartment, or maybe get a house... go on spending our time like we do, between University and P.D. obligations, until one day we look around and we're two old farts who have been happy, but spent years missing the _rest_?" He shrugged. "Could've happened. Contrary to popular opinion, I'm really not that impulsive. I tend to spend a lot of time analyzing things." 

"So, you're saying...?" 

"I'm saying, if I'm supposed to be the jumper... consider yourself jumped." All of a sudden, he stood up, jostling the table in the process. "Come on, let's get out of here. Pay the man and let's go." 

"But what about dinner?" 

Blair didn't answer, just turned and walked out of the restaurant. 

When Jim emerged, he found Blair slowly pacing back and forth in the darkened corner of the parking lot beside his truck. 

"I wasn't sure what to do. I was going to get in the truck, but my car is parked over there." 

"You can ride with me, Chief. We can come back and get your car tomorrow." 

"No. It's not that really. I just..." He pulled Jim by the arm around the truck to the passenger side. Out of sight of the restaurant. Leaning back against the door, he took deep breaths as Jim came to stand in front of him. "You know, also contrary to popular belief, I'm really not that cavalier in my attitude about sex. I'll admit that I'm not above a little macho posturing, and I'm not immune to male-bonding rituals, but I don't just go around looking for a good time. In a minute, I'm going to need you to remember that." He reached out and put his hands on Jim's hips, tugging slightly until the larger man moved closer. 

"Blair, do you want me to drive you home?" 

"No, I'll drive my car. If things go the way I plan, I'm not going to want to bother with taking time to pick it up tomorrow." 

Fighting through the sudden erotic assault on his senses, it took a minute for Jim to figure out that the movement between their bodies was Blair's hands fumbling... trying to get his own pants open. The rush that came from picking up on Blair's arousal took him by surprise. His brain was working, but the wheels were turning very slowly, and he could swear he could hear each gear click. But he got the message, especially when Blair grabbed his right hand. 

"I just didn't want to drive like this...." He pushed Jim's hand down inside the front of his pants. "Oooh... I just... needed... fuck... yes." Jim maneuvered so that he was inside Blair's underwear, and Blair kept up his tight grip on Jim's wrist. "Oh... shit... wanted to feel you... fuck... damn Jim.... Like that, yeah... like that...." The words degenerated into moans and grunts as Blair thrust his hips forward, humping against Jim's hand. Until... "Shit, Jim, shit... ohshitohshitohshitohshit..." 

Jim moved his other hand from where he had braced it against the truck, and loosened Blair's hair, threading it through his fingers, before bringing his mouth close, swallowing those breathless curses. Catching the wave of sensation, he thrilled at the feel of the pulses, and the heat, and the wetness, as Blair came in his hand. He watched as Blair pulled the hand from between his legs, and took it up to his mouth to lap up a taste of himself. The tongue tickled Jim's palm and fingertips a few times before Blair used his shirttail to wipe the hand clean. 

Smiling up into loving, blue eyes, Blair said, "Sorry, just had to get that out, " running his thumb along Jim's lips, remembering what their touch had felt like against his own. 

"No problem." Jim sounded a lot calmer than he actually felt as he leaned forward, fitting their lips together in another little kiss. "But maybe we should get out of the parking lot now." 

"This is not about a hand job by the side of your truck. Or whatever we do later. You know that, right? I love you." 

"I know, Chief. Sure you don't want to ride home with me?" 

"No, I'm cool." 

When Jim backed up, Blair tried to get himself together. He fastened his pants, but didn't bother to tuck in his shirt. He knew that he smelled like a fuck, probably looked well-fucked, and couldn't wait to get back to the loft and make fucking a reality. If he rode with Jim to the loft, they'd more than likely have an accident on the way. He stood there for a minute while he watched Jim get into the truck. Then, he walked over to his car, got in, and buckled up, before starting his engine, and pulling around to follow Jim out. As they made it to the main street, his cell phone rang. 

"Hello?" 

"Keep your mind on the road, Sandburg. I love you, too. See you at home." 

The call was disconnected, and Blair broke out in a grin. He made a saluting gesture at the back of Jim's head, knowing that his partner was watching him in his rear view mirror. And if he had been blessed with a Sentinel's heightened sense of sight, he would have seen Jim's reflection grinning back at him. 

THE END 


End file.
